Phoenix's Sunrise
by What I See In The Mirror
Summary: What I came up with right after watching the second airing of the finale, since I missed the first. I'm new, so don't judge too harshly, please. This is mainly just drabble about the ending, and the thoughts and feelings that happen afterwards. It's my tribute for the end of a show that was really inspiring and heavily influenced the way I see the world. Read and leave a review! :)


Author's Note- It's about 4 in the morning right now, and I've spent the last two hours writing this. It's fresh from my thoughts of the finale, but my lack of sleep probably makes it crazy and it's most likely a mistake to post it. But I am, so there. It's nothing special, just my jumbled thoughts poured onto the paper. Happy reading.

Disclaimer- I do not own Nikita, but I do own this story and its contents.

* * *

Nothing really ever ends perfectly, now does it? Loss, hardship, heartache, all of that she'd faced in her life. The darkness inside of her, the monstrous persona with which she was inextricably entwined with, was still there. And as always, every day was a struggle to keep her in check. Winning against Amanda didn't give her a clean slate. Really, nothing could ever wipe away the sins she'd committed in her brief lifetime which had felt decades longer than it should have. But now, after all of these years, Nikita was finally exposed through the truth. The full truth, the honest reality of the world, and she cherished it more than anything. She was a survivor, but only now could she completely live in the light.

Living life to the fullest didn't necessarily mean a white picket fence, or the house she'd imagined. But it all worked out in the end, just as she prayed it would. After all, she couldn't simply forget. No, the struggles she faced and the obstacles she'd overcome would always be there, lurking in the back of her mind. They had shaped her, molded her, into the person she was today, and even though it had taken a long time to fully grasp, acceptance was the key to happiness. Maybe this wasn't the person she'd dreamed of being as a little girl, with stars in her eyes and dreams in her soul, but this was all she could accomplish with the hand she was dealt. And in a way, it made sense.

Ryan's death was a guilt she would shoulder until she died, and though it wasn't easy, it was bearable. He had been a seeker, a man led by his inexplicably unwavering belief that the truth really could set you free. And in some ways, it really did. Clarity was a luxury afforded only to a lucky few, the select bunch of those who bothered to seek it out rather than live in blissful ignorance. It was a blessing, but also a curse. Only clear eyes can truly see the sun, but on the flip side of that coin, only they could truly see the horrors of the darkness. But Nikita knew her goal now. It wasn't a mission, it wasn't penance, either. Nor was it redemption. It was a choice. It was hope, freedom, and faith, that offered her, not a mission, but a chance. An actual chance, without manipulation, without deception. To help those truly in need, of her own volition and on her own time. After all, this world had given her abilities, and they were the kind you simply couldn't let go of. What she could part with, however, was the anger and hate that drove her. She no longer needed a purpose to dictate her existence, this time, she could carve out her own path.

As for what she did in her spare time? Well, it turns out that she was quite the bookworm. One of her favorites was a poem.

* * *

**Madness**

Destruction is a lonesome path

A journey always taken alone

Wrath is a vicious beast

Its venom seeps deep into your bones

* * *

This rage-fueled road cannot offer you penance

Revenge will not lead you home

Forgiveness is the way of the righteous

Hatred will only condemn you to roam

* * *

Anger plays a dangerous role

It's a weapon, a tool of mistrust

Careful how you wield it, though

This double-edged blade does not rust

* * *

Often when the rage dies down

We finally see through the haze

Morals come back into play

Once we see what we have razed

* * *

So temper your fury

Tame Vengeance's lust

Atone for your sins

Forget, if you must

* * *

Heed my warning, this last attempt-

* * *

Fire is not to be toyed with

It cares not who it burns

Once your enemies have been consumed

To you the flames will turn

* * *

It will not show you mercy

It will not feel regret

Keep in mind that retribution

Is more foe than friend

* * *

The irony of the piece was not lost on her. She kept it in mind, especially during the time she had rescued child soldiers, and was forced to face a child who had an unsettling darkness, an almost primal need for retaliation, which had taken her quite some time to help him work on. But she never gave up. How could she, when her own inner demons uncannily resembled his?

Alex was off with Sam, a constant presence publicly (and privately,) working against human trafficking, him as her partner and 'bodyguard.' Sonya and Birkoff were living the good life, Nerd taking pleasure as the creator of what he called the New Age of the Internet. The team was scattered across the globe, yet at the same time remained close. They helped each other when they could. Otherwise, it was live and let live. They deserved peace, and whichever way they chose to attain it was their decision completely.

Still, it always disturbed Nikita to think that Ryan had sacrificed himself to give them this new life. He was never going to get the chance to enjoy the new, Shop-free world he had given his life to create. A smile was often brought to her lips, however, when he warned her. She wasn't sure if he was there, or if it was just her subconscious, but she didn't mind. His help was very much appreciated. So, in the end, freedom had been possible for her. For the broken girl turned rogue assassin to finally end it all in one clean sweep. Life was, of course, still complicated and full of guns, but now she didn't have to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. She was already there.

Nikita Bishop, free at last.

Leaning against the balcony's railing, the corners of her lips turn upwards as strong arms wrap around her waist, tugging her close to her husband. "What are you doing, Mrs. Bishop?" A voice, still husky from sleep, whispers in her ear.

"Watching the sun come up," She replies, their fingers weaving together as they absorb the radiant colors beginning to peer over the edge of the horizon. The sun's rays had never shone brighter, nor had dawn ever been lovelier.


End file.
